


A Poet's Soul

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Assault, Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Venezia | Venice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3548624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared fled England to Venice so he could start a new life free from the ever encroaching suspicion that he was a homosexual. He never expected to meet Jensen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Poet's Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Душа поэта](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4704785) by [superstition](https://archiveofourown.org/users/superstition/pseuds/superstition)



> Disclaimer: The people mentioned herein belong to themselves. This is a pure and utter work of fiction. Not a teeny, tiny drop of it is real.
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of homophobia, a slightly drugged "confession," a beating from that "confession" – from OMC to Jensen.
> 
> A/N: This was written for the second round of spn_masquerade on LJ.
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own

Jared tugged on the sleeves of his maroon coat as he walked into the moonlit Venice night. The embroidery on it and his ivory waistcoat was more ostentatious than when he would have worn in England. Indeed, everything he did in Venice was grander and more romantic than England’s mode of dress. 

Jared had experienced the company of a few ladies on the ton wearing the “latest” French fashions, but he had dared not wear silk and broadcloth of similar finery back home. To wear sheened silks that boasted touches of golden embroidery would have invited commentary. That commentary would no doubt have included the word “dandy” in it, and Jared had wanted to avoid that particular label.

There was already enough speculation about him in society. His unwed status had been the talk of many a gossip back in England. Venice was a breath of fresh air after living under scrutiny for so long.

Jared could admit he had made mistakes as a youth, ones that courted the suspicions of others. His eyes had lingers too long on the features of his compatriots and not those of their sisters. He had never shown interest in courting nor pursued a lady even when the match would have been highly advantageous.

But he had learned from his mistakes. He had already called upon a couple ladies and one rich, young widow in an attempt to solidify his ruse of attraction to the fairer sex. He played up his restlessness, making his character appear to be something less than steadfast in nature.

What he did not do as downplay his wealth. While it would indeed discourage mothers, fathers and the ladies themselves from seeking a marriage proposal, such a reputation would no doubt reflect badly upon his accounts. As Jared meant to make his holdings in Venice both permanent and lucrative, he could not risk gossip about his finances.

Of course, there was nobody to impress in the dark Venice night. Though candles and gas lights lent their glow to the streets, there was a lack of people in them. Night was always so, and Jared enjoyed being able to drop all pretense in places that weren’t his private chambers.

Some would worry about being robbed, but Jared kept to more civilized streets. His tall figure was imposing. The cane and dagger he carried with him had been excellent deterrents the one time that ruffians attempted to rob him. Since then, there had been no other attempts on his person. He fancied that there were warnings amongst the riff raff about the tall man who wandered the streets at night.

A choked sound caught Jared’s ear as he passed an alleyway. He usually ignored such sounds as they were more often than not caused by ladies of the night earning their pay, but the tone seemed wrong for a man taking his pleasure.

Cautiously, Jared crept out of the warm glow of the street lamps and into the dark alley. Her knew that his actions were utter foolishness, but something drove him on. He could barely make out the shape of a person in the shadows, but there was no mistaking the harsh movements of one trying to scramble away.

“Are you hurt?” Jared asked in his flawed Italian, crouching down in an attempt to better see the features of the strange.

A harsh laugh answered him.

“Do you require assistance?” Jared asked. The better doctors might balk at treating a street urchin, but Jared’s money could buy them off if needs be.

“I dare not ask it,” a deep voice answered in broken Italian. Whoever it was, he was definitely a man and not a native of Venice.

“I’ll tell no one,” Jared promised, switching to English in his reply to see if the man was also from Jared’s native lands.

“Is this when I am supposed to weep with relief that I have been found by a fellow countryman?” the voice wobbled as it asked.

“No,” Jared said slowly. 

“It is a pity then that I am,” the man in the shadows replied as his shadowy figure scraped over the paving stones of the alley towards Jared’s general direction.

Hesitating for only a moment, Jared moved towards the other man and helped him to his feet. The man was smaller than Jared, but not to the extent that most were. Jared supposed that the stranger would be amongst the tallest in the room if Jared was not amongst the crowd.

“I was mislead,” the man said as he leaned on Jared for support. “My friend, he spoke of a party, but instead I was ambushed. My purse taken.”

Jared nodded. While he was well established and had good connections, not all were as lucky as he. There were many who made friends only to have that friendship abused. There were even some in Jared’s acquaintance who would not hesitate to stab him in the back should his social power falter.

“Where are you staying?” he asked the stranger.

“My father let rooms for me by the bridge,” the man explained. “He wished for me to travel abroad and become cultured.”

“Venice is a fine place for that,” Jared said. “Though I believe there are bad people to be found the world over.”

“And you believe my story? That I am not one of the bad people?” the man asked. He sounded as if there was some other reason than philosophical conversation that caused his question, but Jared could not decipher what the source of it was.

“I believe that you are in no condition to take advantage of me even if you wished to do so,” Jared responded.

The man wheezed out a pained laugh. “That much is true.”

Jared stopped walking when they were beneath a street lamp. He grabbed hold of the other man’s shoulder and turned so that he could observe his face. What a handsome visage it was. Even with the bruises and small cuts littering it, Jared could tell it was young and enviably handsome. 

The parts of the stranger’s skin that remained unblemished were pale and dusted with freckles. The man’s eyes were green and his hair shone golden in the dim lighting. His high cheekbones and square jaw gave perfect frame to the entire package that was the man’s facial appearance.

“Do you want something?” the man asked warily.

“Your name,” Jared answered for it would be inappropriate to ask what angel blessed the stranger with such beauty.

“Jensen,” the man answered.

“So you are from the Scandinavian countries?” Jared asked.

The man laughed. “No. My surname is Ackles. My first name was given to me on remembrance of my mother’s cousin who was from Norway.”

“I see,” was all that Jared said as he shifted Jensen back to his side and began walking again.

“This is not the direction of my apartments,” Jensen observed.

“I thought that I should bring you back to my house,” Jared explained. “It is a great deal closer, and you are not well enough to manage on your own.”

“My manservant would help me,” Jensen protested weakly. 

“As a good manservant should,” Jared said. “But I am not sure that you could make it all the way there, and the streets that way are dangerous at night.

“It has been my experience that the streets are dangerous here,” Jensen noted.

Jared smiled. “Nevertheless, I have a spare bedroom that you can recuperate in before you return to our own lodgings. If you need further persuasion, my cook is quite excellent at her craft.”

“I suppose that come the ‘morrow I will be hungry,” Jensen conceded.

“Indeed,” Jared agreed. 

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Jensen’s face was a miasma of colors the next morning as they sat down for breakfast. He moved gingerly and winced whenever he bent his waist. 

Jared was proud of his staff that they did not stare or otherwise mention Jensen’s appearance. They were paid handsomely for both their loyalty and service. Good manners were a must.

 

“I trust you rested well?” Jared asked, forcing himself to not stare at the split lip that made Jensen’s mouth swell in an unattractive manner.

“As well as could be expected,” Jensen replied.

“Good. I will hire a carriage for you today. It may not be comfortable, but it will be a sight more relaxing than walking your way back home,” Jared said.

Jensen nodded. “I want to thank you for your hospitality. You have been most kind to me.”

“It is nothing,” Jared said. “It is only right to help those in need.”

“So it is,” Jensen agreed. 

They ate in silence for a while before Jensen spoke up. “Do you not want to know how I ended up in that alley last night?”

“I do,” Jared admitted. “But you do not seem to have the desire to tell me. As such, it is none of my business.”

“What if I had committed a great crime and have now dragged you into it?” Jensen asked.

“I think you forget that it is I who dragged you here,” Jared pointed out. “If you get me into trouble, I have a perfectly reasonable case for my innocence.”

Jensen’s lips gave the barest hint of a smile at that. 

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Not five hours had passed since Jared had sent Jensen back to his home when a visitor came calling. The man stood in the Jared’s foyer looking harried. A quick glance at his knuckles proved Jared’s suspicions that this man was in his home because of Jensen. The bruising there was quite out of the ordinary for a gentleman.

Jared forced a pleasant look upon his face and introduced himself to the man. He showed him into his parlor with as much equanimity as he could muster.

“I am sorry, sir, to interrupt your day,” the man, Iacopo Abelli he had introduced himself as, declared.

“Oh?” Jared said with studied disinterest.

“I have heard word that you sheltered a fellow Englishman in your home last night. I would warn you from his company,” Iacopo said. “He is a creature most foul.”

Jared frowned. “You speak very plainly, sir.”

“I must speak so,” the man replied. “There is no other term for it. Mr. Ackles is taken with other men in a way that is not natural.”

Jared concealed his surprise. While he had guessed that there was some shame that Jensen had wished to hide from him, he had not guessed that his new acquaintance shared his proclivities. 

“Have you proof?” he asked Iacopo.

“I have seen him looking,” he said with a wave of his hand, “but I had no proof until last night. I had a friend who knew a type of liquor that was said to make men’s tongue loose. I asked him about it outright, and he did not deny it.”

“I see,” Jared said, letting his eyes harden and his visage close off. “You drugged a man and accused him of being a homosexual. Then when he was thoroughly incapacitated, you took him saying nothing to you as confirmation of your beliefs. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I…”

“You will leave now and not spread this gossip any further. Anyone who you told, you will find them and recant your story. If you do not, I will slander your name in my circles. You prospects will be ruined. Do you understand me?”

Iacopo nodded his head furiously.

“Good. Now, I have business to attend. My butler will show you out,” Jared said as he rose from his seat and left the room. He told his manservant to escort the gentleman out of his parlor then proceeded to walk to his study. Ideas were springing into his mind, and he had to have privacy to mull them over.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV 

“Mr. Padalecki,” Jensen said without as stutter as he rushed into his hallway at the announcement of Jared’s presence. “I did not expect to see you.”

“No,” Jared agreed as Jensen’s servant took his coat, gloves and cane. “I know my visit is rather spur of the moment.”

“No,” Jensen said. “Well, yes. It is. I meant that I did not expect to ever see you again.”

“I wanted to see you again,” Jared told him.

“I see,” Jensen said in a way that clearly conveyed that he did not. “Would you like to come into the sitting room? It is nowhere as grand of yours, of course, but it does have nice windows and comfortable furniture.

“That sounds lovely,” Jared agreed, following Jensen as he lead the way.

“I’ll ring for tea,” Jensen offered.

Jared inclined his head to indicate his favorable opinion on the topic of having tea and went to stand by one of Jensen’s vaunted windows. “Do you trust your servants?” he asked as he pushed one of the drapes back to further the view.

“Of course,” Jensen answered. 

“Truly?” Jared pressed.

Jensen scowled. “If you have come here to cast aspersions on the quality of people my servants are…”

“Nothing like that, I assure you,” Jared soothed. “I merely wish to discuss a sensitive matter. It would be best if any ears that might overhear our discussion would not feel the need to share it with others.”

“They have not even written my father to tell him of what happened to me,” Jensen said. “I trust them.”

“Alright,” Jared said as he crossed the room and sat down in the chair that was directly across from the couch where Jensen was sitting. “Not long after you left, I had a visitor.”

Jensen sucked in a breath, and his eyes widened in fear. 

“He told me a most fantastical story, and I told him to recount his lies, or I would ruin him,” Jared continued.

Jensen exhaled and looked at the floor. “What do you want from me?”

“Pardon?” Jared asked.

“Do not toy with me,” Jensen snapped. “What is it you want in recompense for what you have done to save my reputation?”

“I want nothing,” Jared answered. “I merely reacted as any man of my means might when faced with such a dishonest creature. As we share the same character, I am certain you can understand my ire.”

“Share the same…” Jensen’s gaze lifted from the floor to look at Jared. Jared smiled back in a not so innocent manner. Jensen blushed. 

“This is a social call then,” Jensen said.

“If you wish it to be so, I do not expect anything for any kindness you believe I have done you,” Jared clarified.

“My father sent me here to become cultured. I would be remiss if I did not accept an offer to step into society such as yours,” Jensen pointed out.

“True,” Jared agreed. “Then again, if you found my company distasteful, I would think that you would learn little.”

“It is fortunate for me then that I find you quite amiable,” Jensen retorted with a sly glance.

“Far be it from me to ignore your appreciation of my character,” Jared noted. “If you can, there is a ball next week. It would be a pleasure to bring you as my guest.”

Jensen reached up to touch one of the yellowing but still dark bruises on his face. “I do not think I will be fit for the public by then.”

“Nonsense. It is a masquerade party. I can assure you that your face would be well hidden,” Jared said.

“I would still have to leave my lodgings to accomplish such a task,” Jensen pointed out. “At the very least I would have to summon a stranger to my home to take measurements.”

“If that if your only concern, I can remedy that easily enough,” Jared said as he pulled a worn cloth measuring tape from where he had hidden it in his garments.

 

“You fancy yourself a tailor?” Jensen asked though he sounded amused not scornful.

Jared shook his head. “I fancy myself a poet. But to tell the truth, I have too much romanticism and not the patience to construct odes that others may find pleasing. My station in life does not lend itself well to being taken seriously as one either.”

“Then you should write under a pseudonym,” Jensen suggested as Jared drew near.

Jared smiled as he pressed his fingertips against Jensen’s cheek. “I’ll keep that under consideration,” He said as he gently placed the end of his measuring tape under the pads of his hand and gently drew the fabric across Jensen’s face.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

“Are you enjoying the party?” Jared asked as he slid out into the shadows that Jensen was enjoying out on the balcony.

“You’re not supposed to know who I am,” Jensen chided instead of answering Jared’s question.

“I both bought your mask and arranged for the carriage to bring us here. If I did not recognize your outfit, I would be a most unobservant person.”

“True,” Jensen said. Though Jared could not see his lips because of the mask covering his face, he suspected that Jensen might be smiling.

“I want to thank you,” Jensen said in a quieter voice, “for asking me here. I was afraid to leave my chambers. Had you not asked, I might have stayed there forever. I’m not even sure why I am here now, except…”

“Except what?” Jared urged.

“I suppose that you have quite the way with words,” Jensen said.

“You flatter me,” Jared said.

“Do I?” Jensen asked. 

“You do,” Jared confirmed. “You are flattery itself with the way of your thanks.”

“Ah,” Jensen said, turning his face away as if to stare at the stars. “You say you are not really a poet, but you have the way of one. Romanticizing the simplest of gratitudes.”

“Then you misunderstand me,” Jared said, stepping closer. “For it is not the man’s gratitude I mean to compliment, but the man himself.” He hooked a finger under Jensen’s chin and tilted his face until it was both tilted upwards and facing Jared.

Jared leaned down and placed a chaste kiss upon the wooden lips of the mask.

“Someone could see,” Jensen hissed.

“They couldn’t,” Jared assured him. We are out of direct sight from the ballroom, and one would have to open the balcony doors I close if they were to walk out here and see us. Should any espy us from the group, they would merely see two shadows, one taller than the other.”

“You are perhaps too clever,” Jensen suggested. “But as you have gone through such effort to keep us out of sight, would you give me the honor of a dance?”

Jared did not hesitate to take Jensen’s hands in his own as he moved them into the correct starting positions. The music from the ballroom was dampened where they were, but it was discernable enough for them to catch the beat.

Though it was awkward with both of them knowing the steps only to the traditional male part, they made due. There in the darkness, Jared experienced the best dance of his life.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Courting Jensen was an odd process. There was no way that it could be traditional. Such affection would be easily discerned by the public, and no amount of threats and sanctions Jared could levy would keep those sorts of rumors from spreading.

So Jared sent Jensen books and took him to libraries and museums. He at first brought Jensen along to more influential balls and gatherings, but it was not long before Jensen was getting his own invitation to such gatherings. His handsome features and impeccable manners endeared him to Venice’s society.

Though Jared bought his friend all manner of manuscripts both old and new, Jensen would not quit pestering him about receiving a poem of Jared’s making. Jared, of course, refused. He had heard of more than one love-struck fool making a fool of himself with his poor verse. His relationship with Jensen was much too new and fragile to take such chances.

“Why does my heart deny me?” Jensen asked dramatically as he sunk down upon the cushions of Jared’s settee. Jared had invited him to a luncheon party so they would not raise any questions as to why they were so often alone in each other’s company. Jensen had simply stayed behind as the other guests left for their homes.

“I’ll not write you a poem,” Jared said as he sat down beside Jensen.

“In that case, would you give me something else?” Jensen asked coyly.

Jared arched an eyebrow. “That would very much depend on what it is you are asking.”

“I think you will be in favor of it,” Jensen replied, a nervous hesitation in his voice.

“Then what is it?” Jared asked.

Jensen leaned towards Jared and curled his hand around the back of the other man’s head before pressing his mouth to Jared’s. There was no moment of hesitation before Jared kissed him back. He slid his arms around Jensen’s waist, pulling them even closer than they had been.

This was their first kiss since the masquerade ball (if one could even call that a kiss). They were often in the company of others. Even when they were not, they had spent their time talking and discussing subjects.

Jared was mindful that if Jensen had been a woman in his arms, then what they were doing would be most scandalous. Yet his affection for Jensen would be condemned ten times worse than if he corrupted a lady before their wedding night. 

But he could have no wedding night with Jensen. Even if they could court properly, their relationship would not be recognized, so why deny themselves the moment? Jared had always scoffed at men who fell into whirlwind courtships, but in the moment, he could understand them at last.

Jared pulled Jensen into his lap. There was a muffled gasp of surprise from the other man, but Jensen did not break their kiss. Rather he squirmed so that he was straddling Jared’s hips. He tangled his fingers into Jared’s hair, and their kiss went from passionate to dirty.

Jared could feel his manhood strain against his breeches. His body felt like the warm glow of candle light was living inside his veins. There was little doubt that Jensen was in a similar situation with the way that he strained in Jared’s arms.

Reluctantly, Jared pushed on Jensen’s shoulders, making him break away from Jared’s mouth. The other man’s face was a sight to behold even more than his regular beauty. His lips were plumped and red. His green eyes were blown wide so that only the thinnest ring of iris remained around their black centers. Jensen’s cheeks were flushed and somehow his perfectly groomed hair had become disheveled though Jared did not remember running his fingers through it. 

“We should not do this here,” Jared gasped. “I cannot have guests sitting in a place where we have completed. Plus, it would be unfair to the staff to ask them to clean the upholstery.”

“What would you suggest then?” Jensen asked.

“I have a rather fine looking bed that has sheets and covers,” Jared suggested.

If he expected any hesitation on Jensen’s part, he received none. Jensen sprang from his lap and stood, rather impatiently, waiting for Jared to stand to his feet as well. Jared could see the distinct profile of Jensen’s erection in his trousers. That propelled him to his feet albeit at a slower pace than it looked like Jensen appreciated.

They stumbled quickly through the halls. Sunlight still shone in through the windows, reminding Jared that he was about to commit such debauchery while the sun still hung in the sky. He cared not.

All that Jared cared about was that they happened upon none of his servants. He cared about the way that he helped Jensen struggle out of his garments as he bared his pale skin to Jared’s gaze. He cared about the way that Jensen kissed into the collar of his shirt as he returned the favor as acting valet to his lover.

Jared’s bed was carved of fine mahogany. Its mattress was soft and covered with the finest of sheets. Jensen looked delectable as he lay down upon them. Jensen’s cock was red and thick. Jared took his time looking before crawling over Jensen’s body, letting his skin sink down to touch Jensen’s.

Underneath him, Jensen groaned. He pushed up against Jared’s body, rubbing his erection against Jared’s skin in a sinful manner. Jared could not help but respond in kind, grinding his cock against Jensen’s stomach, feeling the bright burst of pleasure that the act brought.

“Kiss me,” Jensen ordered. Jared willingly obeyed. His mouth took Jensen’s as they eagerly writhed against each other. It did not have even the finesse of the way that Jared sometimes used his hand to pleasure himself, but Jared could not find the will to stop what they were doing to do anything else.

Jensen appeared to be in the same straights as he grasped again at Jared’s hair and did not move them down to fondle at his or Jared’s cocks. Instead he wrapped one leg over Jared’s hip and rubbed his cock against Jared, leaving streaks of precome against Jared’s skin.

With a tiny groan, Jensen came. His seed came in hot, wet blasts between their stomachs. Jared rolled his hips into the mess, enjoying the slick, dirty feel of it before his balls pulled up tightly to his body, and his orgasm took him.

Jensen lay panting beneath him, but managed to gasp out, “Give me a poem.”

It must have been the ridiculously light feeling creeping over Jared’s body that made him comply.

_“In light of ‘morn my lover sleeps_  
His cheeks like roses’ bloom.  
The dark of night does not keep  
His beauty from the room  
But light it loves him best  
Especially in his rest  
For when the sun shines, so does he  
My lover’s beauty, forever free.” 

Jensen smiled at him in a dopey manner and did not laugh though Jared knew that his verses were not the best to ever be spoken. “That was wonderful,” Jensen said, confirming Jared’s suspicions that bodily pleasure had dulled Jensen’s senses for the moment.

Instead of answering, he rolled out of bed to fetch a wash cloth and dip it into the cold water of his wash basin. He cleaned his and Jensen’s seed from his stomach and pulled his shirt back on to combat against the cold of the room. He rinsed the cloth out and brought it and Jensen’s shirt back to bed with him.

Tenderly, he cleaned Jensen up as best he could, then poked at his loved until Jensen pulled his shirt on over his head. He couldn’t have Jensen catching a cold from the chilly temperature of his bedchamber. How would he ever get him back into it if he caught a sickness from it?

“You are very handsome in your white shirt,” Jensen slurred as his eyes grew heavy with sleep. “Would that you could always walk about in it with no vest or coat to mask its flow.”

“You speak nonsense,” Jared said as he pressed a kiss to Jensen’s temple. Jensen answered him with a snore.  
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV  
_**Epilogue**_

Jensen moved in with Jared when the lease on his rooms was up for renewal. Jensen applied to his father to allow him to stay in Venice as he had been offered a position in a business venture from his good friend Mr. Padalecki. As Jared’s standing was higher in society than Mr. Ackles’s own, he agreed.

In the guise of friendship and business, Jared pretended to be the mentor to Jensen’s protégé. In time the silly prospect that they devised as an excuse to be together grew into an actual one. Their wealth grew to the point where Jensen’s wealth was such that it made no sense that he should still live with Jared.

So Jensen purchased the house next to Jared’s after bribing its owner with an offer of twice what it was worth. 

To avoid forced entanglements with the opposite sex, Jared often claimed that he could never get over his first love to marry another. It was the truth, though perhaps a lie in that he let others assume that his first love had died.

Jensen, on the other hand, made an accident he encountered at a gondola ride his ticket to marital freedom. In truth, he had walked away from the incident with nothing seriously wounded except his pride. He had slipped while getting out of the gondola, and had landed in the water with some minor bruising on this inner thighs. Jared had made sure to kiss each bruise better after he finished laughing at Jensen for being the clumsy one for once. 

What Jensen told his father and a few, select gossips was that he had unfortunately hit his genitals on the edge of the boat. That accident had scarred him for life to the point that he could not father children. As such, he felt he could not marry a woman as he could not promise her the happy family that she deserved.

As for Iacopo, he met with mysterious bad fortune after mysterious bad fortune. He ended up the laughing stock of society, reduced to few riches and worse reputation. Whenever Jensen asked about him, Jared faked innocence on the matter – though both knew better.

_**The End** _


End file.
